


But the Fire is so Delightful

by DwellTheBraveAtHeart



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa, FitzSimmons Secret Santa 2014, Fluff, I couldn't resist, fitz shall always be an accidental fire starter in my head, hinted Trip/Skye - Freeform, they deserved so much more!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwellTheBraveAtHeart/pseuds/DwellTheBraveAtHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four different FitzSimmons Christmases. Fitz has a penchant for accidentally setting things on fire around the holidays.<br/>Secret Santa gift for jemmasfitzy on tumblr.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	But the Fire is so Delightful

**Author's Note:**

> This is a secret santa gift for the tumblr user jemmasfitzy. Thank you for the prompt (I went with Christmas, I hope you don't mind) and I really hope you like it. It was a lot of fun to write! :D xx

_i. Oh the weather outside is frightful_

Jemma Simmons had only knocked on Fitz’s door twice since the beginning of their friendship. So on this ridiculously cold and snowy December evening, Fitz wasn’t at all surprised to hear his door swing open, quickly followed by the sound of his best friend’s footsteps before she shut it behind her.

“It’s absolutely freezing in here!” Simmons exclaimed. Pulling her cardigan tighter around her body, she stepped over a precariously stacked pile of scrap metal, and walked over to Fitz. He was sitting in the middle of his bed with his back against the wall, staring at blueprints strewn across his lap and had a pencil tucked behind his ear. The shirt and tie he had been wearing that day had been exchanged for a t-shirt with a faded picture of the TARDIS on it. Simmons didn’t bother trying to stop the fond smile that crept across her face. It wasn’t a battle worth fighting. Especially when she saw him like this – every bit the self-assured genius he was in the lab and to everyone else, but somehow more _Fitz_. 

Climbing on to the bed next to him, she settled into his side and crossed her legs before nudging his knee with her own. “Didn’t you tell them that your heating was broken last week?”

“For a super secret government academy, they’re pretty rubbish at dealing with maintenance requests,” he replied. “If these stupid Christmas assignments weren’t so time consuming, I’d fix it myself!” Fitz felt the weight on the bed shift slightly and looked over to see Simmons giving him the sternest look she had given him yet (and he had already been on the receiving end of quite a few). “Don’t look at me like that! That last time I tinkered with the academy system, I was trying to _improve_ it. This time I’d be _fixing_ it. Besides, how was I meant to know that some of the second years had done some ‘non-academy approved’ rewiring to it? And it’s not as if any _serious_ damage had been done.” 

“Fitz, the corridor lights exploded.”

“So?” Simmons rolled her eyes before reaching across him to grab his TV remote.

“ _Sooo_ , you’re lucky no one got hurt. Keep the tinkering to your inventions, Fitz. You don’t want to waste your genius on something like repairing the heating. Even if your room is colder than the artic tundra right now,” she said as she turned on his TV to show an advert with a family sat around a fireplace with their Christmas tree off to side. Neither of them were really paying much attention to the advert. Not after that first scene had popped up. Well, Simmons wasn’t and her best bet was that Fitz’s mind had drifted off to the same pace as hers. They had been in sync from the get go. “It’s the first Christmas I haven’t been home for,” Simmons mumbled whilst they watched the family Christmas scene before them. She felt Fitz’s gaze move from the TV, to her and then back again. 

“Me too,” he whispered back. “I’m usually always at home with my mum around the holidays. It’s just the two of us. I don’t like the thought of her being on her own.” His gaze wandered over to her again, but this time she was looking at him too. Fitz gave her a sad smile before gesturing back to his blueprints. “All this extra work so we graduate early should be worth it though...hopefully. She wouldn’t hear a word against me staying here once she found out.” He chuckled, making Simmons smile. “She’s a stubborn one.”

“My family begged me to come home. They didn’t see the point of me graduating early. To be honest, they didn’t really like the idea of the academy in general. They always thought that I’d be better as a surgeon or in a hospital research lab. Somewhere where I could make a ‘real difference’… I don’t think they see the world the same way we do, Fitz. There are so many bigger puzzles out there to be solved and SHIELD has the pieces I need to solve them. Not an operating theatre. That’s just not me.” Simmons searched Fitz’s face, looking for a hint of confusion but she only saw the face of someone who understood her completely. The corner of her mouth crept up at that.

Fitz mirrored her smile. He always thought he and Simmons would get along well, but he never thought he’d have a friend that felt so incredibly comfortable talking to him or be in a situation where he felt the same. Fitz had always been prickly; he’d never made friends easily. But everything just came so naturally with Simmons.

“You do realise that if you change the position of the battery, you’ll be able to-”

“Have a larger source reservoir. Brilliant idea, Simmons!” Fitz said as Simmons reached out and pointed to the top of Fitz’s blueprints, showing where the battery could go. Fitz tilted his head slightly before pulling out the pencil from behind his ear and sketching the modifications to the design. 

He hopped off of the bed soon after, making his way to his desk where the prototype was sat and began to make the alterations. Simmons had the TV remote in hand again, skipping through the channels. ‘ _Probably looking for some cheesy Christmas film again_ ,’ Fitz thought. All they’d been watching for the past week had been Christmas films or Christmas specials, per Simmons’ request. She did love Christmas.

“I feel like we’ve already watched half the Christmas films they’re showing now,” Simmons commented with the remote still in her hand. “Maybe next time we should pace ourselves.”

“Or maybe next time _you_ should pace yourself. You picked all the films, Simmons,” Fitz said as he began to solder the model battery in place. The sound of Simmons scoffing made him turn around briefly and throw her a look and he also managed to catch her wiggling her way into one of his jumpers. Fitz made a mental note to send another message to maintenance about his heating. Or maybe he’d just wait until they got round to it. She did look nice in his jumpers.

“As if I forced you to watch anything you didn’t want to watch. And if you want to play _that_ card, you didn’t try to stop me! So, you’re as much to blame for the over watching of Christmas films as I am!” As soon as that sentence left her mouth, Fitz rolled his eyes and then carried on with his soldering. “But I suppose we won’t have this issue when they bring Doctor Who back next year. Hopefully the reboot will be a success so they’ll have a Christmas special!” That was the comment that made Fitz drop his soldering iron onto his desk and turn around to face her.

“What did you just say? They’re bringing back Doctor Who? As in _Doctor Who_?” Fitz accompanied those last two words with a vigorous hand gesture at the TARDIS on his t-shirt.

“Yes! Didn’t you know? It’s all over BBC news!”

“I saw the article about it last year, but I didn’t know they were actually going to do it! Are you sure?” He walked over as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and brought up the news article. Fitz stood in front of her and stared down at the headline before a smile sprung across his face. “Isn’t this brilliant, Simmons? We won’t have to just-”

“Watch reruns anymore! We’ll actually have new episodes to watch. I can’t believe you didn’t know, though! All of those Christmas assignments are taking up too much of your time, Fitz!”

“I’m sorry that some of us have to bring our work out of the lab with us. We all can’t leave our projects in an incubator!” Now Simmons took the opportunity to roll her eyes at him, but their conversation abruptly stopped as they both began to sniff. “Fitz, why can I smell burning?” Fitz turned as Simmons leaned around him to look at his desk.

“Bloody hell!” Fitz shouted as he ran towards the small fire that had ignited around his soldering iron. He unplugged it and then grabbed the mini fire extinguisher from under his desk. In between the spurts of foam squirting from the fire extinguisher came the sound of Simmons giggling softly behind him. While the majority of Fitz was desperately trying to calm down and lower his blood pressure during this very stressful situation, a little part of him wanted to turn around and tell her that a desk fire wasn’t a laughing matter. Especially since it was a fire on _his_ desk. Luckily the soldering iron had landed on top of some scrap bits of paper, so none of his blueprints had gone up in flames. If that had been the case, Simmons laughing would _definitely_ not have been tolerated…even if he found it a very pleasing sound and was struggling to find the strength to not laugh along with her. 

“Oh Fitz,” she said, smiling fondly at him once he’d gotten the small fire under control and was putting the mini fire extinguisher back in its place.

“You do realise this is your fault? If you hadn’t distracted me with Doctor Who news, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not the one who put down the soldering iron on paper – which happens to be flammable.” Fitz turned around and had every intention of winning this debate, but sight of Simmons sitting on his bed in his jumper made him pause. The sound of the wind outside throwing the snow against the wind weakened his resolve even more. They were both missing home, the weather was terrible, and it was almost Christmas. Now wasn’t the time to argue about a small desk fire that only resulted in some burnt scrap paper (and not Fitz’s Christmas assignment blueprints being damaged in anyway).

“Whatever,” Fitz sighed as he made his way back to his bed. Sitting down and leaning back against the wall, he looked over at Simmons and gave her a small smile. “Let’s just watch some Christmas films and pretend that there wasn’t a fire in my room a couple of seconds ago, yeah?”

Simmons noticed Fitz’s change in tone and cottoned onto what he was thinking. At least, what she thought he was thinking. It was stormy and cold and they weren’t at home with their families, but they had each other. Now was the time for Christmas films that they’ve already watched and to completely ignore the fact that her best friend was a genius, but also found it remarkably easy to start fires in his dorm room. Simmons nodded and scooted closer to Fitz on his bed.

“They’re going to start showing Love Actually in a couple of minutes. I think that was the first Christmas film we watched, so it’s not too fresh in our memories,” she said, letting her head fall onto Fitz’s shoulder. He smiled down at her and had the urge to press a kiss into her hair, but he shook it off. Friends didn’t do that. That was definitely the wrong side of the friend line. Instead, he shifted his arm and placed it round her shoulders, letting her lean into him more comfortably. Friends did that. That was the kind of thing friends did. Wasn’t it?

“Yeah, okay. I’m good with that. Love Actually is a brilliant film,” Fitz replied, burying his internal monologue deep, deep down. He shouldn’t question things like that. It would only lead to feelings and he was never very good at verbalising those.

They sat on Fitz’s bed in easy silence for the first five minutes of the film. Simmons kept snuggling closer into him, using the pretence of his body heat, but really it was because it was Fitz and she liked to snuggle him. It was when Simmons was as close as she could possibly get when she let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s a shame really,” she said with a silvery tone. Fitz looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.

“What is?”

“It’s a shame you put out that fire. It may have burnt up your blue prints in the process, but it really would have warmed up the room.”

“Shut up.”

_ii. The lights are turned way down low_

 Had Fitz’s hair always been quite so curly? Simmons had never really noticed before. The soft glow of the candlelight seemed to accentuate everything about him. The flickering of the flames made his features even more prominent as she looked at him from the other end of the sofa, with her feet in his lap. They were reading through their two latest project write-ups in the candlelight in front of the just burnt out fire of their apartment in Boston. It had been five years since they graduated from the academy and moved in, but Simmons still couldn’t quite get over the fact that this apartment was _theirs_. The sign on their doorbell said _L. Fitz and J. Simmons_. Photos of them stood amongst Christmas cards that were addressed to _FitzSimmons_ along the mantelpiece. This was _their_ home. Their home that currently had no electricity and hadn’t for about two hours now.

 “I can’t believe the power cut has lasted this long. I hope this doesn’t happen while we’re back in the UK for Christmas,” Fitz grumbled as he turned the page of his folder and returned his hand back to its resting place on Simmons leg.

 “I’m sure everything will have been resolved by then, Fitz. Stop worrying. Plus, doesn’t this candlelight make it seem more like Christmas? The fire has burnt out, it’s nice and warm and the dim lighting just makes it seem-”

 “Cosier, I know and I agree. But if there were electricity right now, we’d also be able to have our Christmas tree lights on. You can’t tell me that would be infinitely more festive. Then again, if the electricity were on we probably wouldn’t even have-”

 “The candles out. Exactly. I just hope nothing in freezer thaws out too badly. Although, if it did I’m sure you’d eat all of it once we get the electricity back on to cook.” That earned her a chuckle from Fitz as he looked up from the folder in his right hand and met her gaze.

 “Sometimes it’s like you know me better than I know myself,” he said, giving her a fond smile before turning to look at their Christmas tree.

 Decorating that tree was always frustrating and entertaining in equal measure. Fitz would even go as far to say that it was the thing about Christmas that he most looked forward to. Simmons had a system for everything and tree decorating was not an exception. Every bauble had their place and she would be damned if she let anyone change that. Fitz enjoyed Christmas, despite his outwardly ‘bah Humbug’ manner. Each year provided the opportunity to have a tree that was bigger and best than the last. Various drafts of trees involving pyrotechnics or lighted rotating midsections had been handed to Simmons only to be met with a stern glare and playful shove in the general direction of the shredder. With every shove, Fitz had to stop himself from smiling. That’s when it occurred to him that it would never really matter if Simmons agreed to one of his designs one day, the real challenge was seeing how outrageous his designs could get before she smacked him round the head.

 Fitz couldn’t help but notice how the candles that sat on the table next to the tree added to the strong sense of _home_ he was feeling right now. The light from the candles seemed to intensify their Christmas decorations, but it still would have looked better with fairy lights. Despite that, everything just seemed cosier, and the casual contact between him and Simmons seemed a little more intimate. Maybe this power cut was _completely_ bad. Not that he’d say that out loud. He’d committed to the ‘this power cut has gone on for far too long and I don’t like it’ campaign now. He’d have to run with it, now.

 “When do you think they’ll get the power back on? Reading in candlelight sounds great in principle. Very old timey and warm, but practically it’s not going great. It’s beginning to strain my eyes,” Fitz moaned, looking back at Simmons. She was peering at him over her own folder. The way she looked, sitting next to him so comfortably on the sofa, made Fitz’s heart jump. It had been five years and he still didn’t know what he’d done to deserve having her in his life. ‘ _It must have been something bloody good,_ ’ Fitz thought.

 “You were the one who left all of our torches in the lab,” she said, lowering her folder so that the entirety of her face was visible now.

 “That wasn’t an answer to my question…and the torches they gave us weren’t _nearly_ bright enough for me to see exactly what was going on in my circuit board. They wouldn’t let me have a play with their torches, so what other choice did I have?” That earned him a giggle and nudge from her foot.

 “If it’s really straining your eyes, bring a couple of the candles closer to you. That might help. It’ll also warm up this area a bit more.”

 “I swear you are just perpetually cold,” Fitz said as he moved her feet off his lap and headed over to the candles next to the tree.

 “I’m only cold when it _is_ cold. Be careful with those, Fitz.” She was giving him a cautionary look and kept pointedly glancing at the lit candles. Fitz rolled his eyes and carried on moving them to the end table next to the sofa. Sometimes it was like she’d never seen Fitz handle very dangerous substances or delicate metals. It’s not like explosions were a constant feature in the lab. They only happened every now and then. Plus, they were very rarely Fitz’s fault.

 The third candle. A tall and chunky one. That’s the one that caused the nice, calm evening they were having to go up in flames - quite literally. Simmons watched it happen like it was in slow motion. Fitz turned too quickly with his arm held too high and the flame brushed against one of the branches of their fake tree. He hadn’t even realised until Simmons sat up and stared it, eyes wide with horror. The flames quickly hopped to the next branch over and then the next. Fitz dropped the candle he was holding and leapt towards the tree, pulling the three branches out form it and throwing them onto the floor with the candle.

 “That’s not helping!” Simmons shouted, jumping up from the sofa, running towards the kitchen. They had a fire blanket somewhere around here.

 “I’m isolating the fire, Simmons!” Fitz shouted back, his eyes darting frantically around the living room. He was sure they had decided to put the fire extinguisher somewhere in the living room…or had they taken it to the lab to replace the one that they had broken during the D.W.A.R.F test run?

 “Oh, so now it can set fire to floor?! Brilliant idea, Fitz! Bloody brilliant!”

 “In case you haven’t realised, our floor isn’t as flammable as the Christmas tree and definitely doesn’t hold as much sentimental value!”

 “Now’s less the time to be thinking about sentiment, Fitz, and more the time to be thinking about how to put out this fire, before the entire apartment goes up in flames!”

 “Less shouting and more throwing me things to put this out!!” Fitz called out as Simmons pulled the fire blanket out of one of the top cupboards and began to run back round to him.

 Fitz pulled the blanket out of her hands and discarded the red casing very efficiently before throwing it over the bulk of the fire that was in front of him, knocking over two other candles in the process. Simmons couldn’t stop her eyes rolling as she ran after them and managed to put them out before they did any more harm. She looked up to see Fitz jumping up and down on top of the fire blanket before stepping off it and moving it onto the next bit of the fire and doing the same. Quietly, she stood and watched him do this until she thought the last of the flames had been put. Then she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

 “Well, that certainly could have been a lot worse,” she said and she began to walk back round to Fitz. “A scorched floor is probably the best case-”

 “Careful, Simmons!” Fitz said, grabbing her waist and pulling out of the way before stretching his leg forward and stomping out one last bout of the flames.

 She watched him as he bent down to pick up the fire blanket and then her eyes surveyed the living room. The power was still out and they had lost a sufficient amount of light from the candles that had to be put out due to Fitz’s clumsiness (maybe she shouldn’t have left the candles so close to the tree to begin with, but that was besides the point). A smile began to grow on her face as she thought about how differently their evening had started off. They were going to have a quiet night of reviewing project write-ups while waiting for the power to come back on. But now they were standing in the almost darkness, hot and sweaty, and with the charred remains of a section of their Christmas tree on their floor. The fact that her smile was going to turn into a laugh was inevitable.

 Fitz watching her giggle and then breaking into a fit of laughter too, was also unavoidable. He had built up a theory over the past couple of years that Simmons laugh was as contagious as it was whimsical. Any evidence to the contrary had yet to be found.

 Simmons reached out and pushed Fitz’s hair back out of his eyes. His hair must have always been this curly because a Fitz with even one less curl wouldn’t look like her Fitz. Her smile mirrored his as they stared at each other, the last echoes of their laughter slowly dying out. In unison, they turned to look at the black scorch mark on their living room floor and from the corner of her eye Simmons saw Fitz’s smile turn into more of sheepish one. Which was definitely more of an appropriate facial expression, given that he had accidentally started a fire with a candle and an artificial Christmas tree. But then again, the shock factor of this sort of things is probably significantly less when you set fire to or explode things as much as Fitz does.

 “We’re going to need to buy a rug to cover that up until we manage to restore those floorboards to their original glory,” Simmons said, moving her hand from Fitz’s hair down to his shoulder. “Or the next time Mrs Layton comes down-”

 “She’ll have our heads and we’ll lose our deposit. Don’t worry though; I’m pretty sure Montgomery has something that’ll do the job. But he’s out of town until new years, so we’re just going to have to hope that Mrs Layton is the type to look under rugs when she goes round her tenant’s flats. She doesn’t seem like that type of person, does she?” Fitz asked, turning his head to look at Simmons just as she turned to look at him. A hint of amusement was dancing in her eyes and Fitz couldn’t help but turn up the corners of his mouth into a small smile.

 “No, I don’t think she is, Fitz,” she replied, looking back at the scorched floor and then to Fitz again. He was standing there with a crumpled fire blanket in one hand and the other on her waist. His face was still slightly flushed and, despite her pushing it back earlier, his hair was falling into his face. That’s when Simmons realised that they were the only two geniuses in the world that wouldn’t think twice about leaving lit candles near an artificial Christmas tree and then proceed to laugh and yell at each other while trying to put out the fire on their floor. This entire situation was so very _them_. So very _FitzSimmons_.

 “Do me a favour, Fitz. Next time you want to light a fire, maybe do it in the fireplace next time?” Simmons joked, gesturing to the fireplace in front of their sofa.

 “Maybe next time you suggest we light candles during a power cut, you don’t leave them next to a _highly flammable fake tree_ ,” Fitz retorted, gesturing to the Christmas tree that was now missing three of its middle branches. As soon as they made eye contact again, they both laughed and began to pick up the discarded baubles and candles from the floor. “We can turn the tree around so that the missing branches are at the back. No one will be any the wiser,” Fitz suggested, handing Simmons two of the knocked over candles.

 “Good plan, Fitz. We’ll just put these baubles around the rest of the tree. Might as well just place them anywhere. My grand tree design plan doesn’t really work when we’re three branches down.” Fitz didn’t even try to hide the smirk on his face as she turned to set the candles down on the kitchen counter. “We’ll have to buy a new tree though, which is sad. We’ve had this one since we moved in here.”

 Fitz was the one to pick up the last bauble. But instead of scouting an area on the tree to put it on, he held it up for Simmons to have a look at. She recognised it instantly, even in the dim lighting. It was clear plastic with a miniature TARDIS on the inside, sitting on top of packed white powder that was clearly meant to be snow. It had been a little gift from Fitz’s mum for their first Christmas in this apartment. She smiled and gently took it from him, placing it at the top of the tree and right at the front – pride of place.

 They both stood back and admired how they’d managed to fix this tree after the smoky disaster. Simmons kept glancing between Fitz and the tree before turning and pressing a soft kiss to Fitz’s cheek. He stiffened slightly, more out of shock than anything, but when he looked at Simmons, a familiar, fond smile spread across his face and she couldn’t help but return it.

 “Merry Christmas, Fitz.”

 “Merry Christmas, Simmons.”

  _iii. All the way home I’ll be warm_

Home wasn’t a place anymore. Home was the girl who made the pesto aioli for his favourite sandwich and could finish his sentences without batting and eyelid. Home was the girl who had jumped out of the bus to protect him and the rest of team, and he sure as hell would have followed her, despite failing his field test miserably.

 “What do you reckon we’ll do for Christmas this year, Jemma?” Fitz asked, keeping his thoughts on how a Christmas at home had come to mean a Christmas with her, to himself.

 They were in Jemma’s bunk on the bus and Fitz was sprawled across her bed, staring up at the fairy lights she’d hung to make her room feel ‘more Christmassy’. Fitz couldn’t argue with that. They did indeed make her room feel more festive, but he mainly liked them because the soft glow reminded him of their apartment in Boston. That was a much simpler time. Their lab didn’t fly and there was a significantly lesser chance of contracting alien viruses that may lead to someone you deeply care about jumping out of a plane. He also was never put face to face with Russian mobsters. But they didn’t have the team back then and in the past months he’d seen more of the world than he’d ever thought he would. ‘ _Swings and roundabouts_ ,’ Fitz thought.

 “I don’t know, Fitz. It’s going to be odd not going back to the UK, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve had our fair share of Christmases away from our families, but we’ve always had each other there. Do you think the rest of the team are going to find it odd spending it with us and not with their own families, or whomever they usually spend it with?” she asked, fiddling with the bottom of her jumper. A jumper that she was about sixty-five per cent sure was actually Fitz’s. She had too many of his jumpers in her wardrobe to really be able to differentiate between hers and his anymore.

 “After everything we’ve been through, I’d say we’re a family now. Wouldn’t you?” Fitz’s question made a warm glow spread through her. Jemma had never doubted that Fitz was part of her family – he was her best friend. But maybe now their little SHIELD family consisted of more than just the two of them. That thought made Jemma feel all warm and fuzzy, like the emotional equivalent of one of Fitz’s cosier jumpers.

 “Yeah, I think we are. You’re right, Fitz.”

 “I know.” That comment earned him a poke in the stomach as Jemma began to walk out towards the team.

 That was how FitzSimmons ended up wearing God awful matching Christmas jumpers (Skye’s doing, of course. But they hadn’t really needed much persuading) whilst trying not to laugh at the sight of May sat opposite them with reindeer antlers on her head. Fitz smiled fondly as Skye began to talk Coulson into wearing a Santa hat, and tried to push out the thought that maybe this was her first proper Christmas with people that resembled a family. As usual, it was like she had read his mind as Jemma reached out and placed her hand on his knee. She squeezed his knee softly before just resting her hand there as she returned her gaze to Skye, who had successfully gotten Coulson into a Santa hat (it didn’t seem like he had needed much persuading, either) and had moved onto Ward. She had clearly saved the most ridiculous for last. Everyone watched in amusement as Sky began the new challenge of forcing a headband with a flashing Christmas tree upon the head of Mr Super Spy.

 Looking around at the team as they all continued their attempts to stifle their laughter, Jemma knew she’d do it again. She’d jump out of a plane for everyone in this room. Especially for the curly haired Scotsman sitting next to her, who’s entire pattern of being matched hers, not just his Christmas jumper. These people had become part of their family and families protected each other. If she ever had to, she’d do it again - without hesitation. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about jumping out of planes. Now was the time to be thinking about the fact that Ward had a flashing Christmas tree on his person and photographic evidence was most definitely needed.

 “If anyone even dares to take a photo of me with these on my head, you can bet they’d need to sleep with their eyes open,” Ward warned, eyeing Fitz’s phone in his hand. Fitz dropped his phone into Jemma’s lap and then raised his hands into the air in surrender.

 “Isn’t the expression ‘sleep with one eye open’ Ward?” Skye asked, leaning forward in her chair.

 “Yes, but they’d need both eyes open to try and stop me from getting my revenge.” Jemma wasn’t entirely sure if it was the completely serious look on Ward’s face or the actual sentence itself that was funny, but either way, her and Skye started laughing and it wasn’t long until Fitz’s laugh began to chorus with theirs.

 “How long has the turkey been in the oven for?” Coulson asked after a game of Scrabble (it had been declared that FitzSimmons were never allowed to be on a team when playing that game _ever_ again). He glanced over to the kitchenette whilst checking the time on his watch.

 “Almost long enough, actually,” Skye said, bouncing out of her seat. “It’s been in there for about three and a half hours now. Should be done soon, thank God. I’m so hungry!” Everyone stood and watched in anticipation of the turkey. Fitz had been looking forward to this all day. Christmas dinner was one of the best things about Christmas. Plus, it had been a very long time since he’d had turkey on Christmas day. Usually his mum would roast a chicken and a couple of years Jemma and him had had beef when it was just them in their apartment. “Ummm,” Skye said, pausing with her hand on the oven handle. “Why is the oven dial turned all the way up?” she asked, looking at Fitz. He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly before replying.

 “That’s what you told me to do, wasn’t it?”

 “No, it definitely was not!” Skye retorted, yanking open the oven door to release a large cloud of smoke and a turkey that wasn’t so much ‘golden brown’ as it was ‘coal black’. “Well…at least we know it’s not undercooked.” Despite Skye’s attempt at a joke, Fitz couldn’t help but let out a sad sigh. This had the potential to be a really good tasting turkey. “Did you really not realise that that was way too high a temperature for a turkey to be cooked at?” Skye asked, amusement evident on her face.

 “I’m an engineer, not a chef!”

 “Oh, Fitz,” Jemma said, putting her hand on his shoulder as he stared dejectedly at what was meant to be the highlight of the day. “Looks like we have another thing to add to our list of stuff you’ve set on fire.” Fitz looked down at her and couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her little smile.

 “I don’t think this one counts. It’s not properly on fire.”

 “Parts of it are on fire,” Skye said, pointing at the little flames around the legs. It looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. Fitz assumed that his facial expression was showing exactly how heartbroken he felt about burning this turkey.

 “Yeah, that definitely counts, Fitz,” Ward said, arms crossed over his chest as he leant against the kitchen wall. Even he was finding it hard not to smile at Fitz’s expression.

 “Fine. Well, at least this one hasn’t left scorch marks on our floor,” Fitz commented, sharing a look with Jemma, earning him a giggle.

 “Now there’s a story I want to hear,” Skye said, leaning forward onto the counter. “I fee like this will be a story that doesn’t have some weird science punch line that only you two understand.”

 “It can be told over dinner.” May walked into the kitchenette and gestured for them to head into the lounge area. “I had a feeling something like this would happen. There’s a roasted chicken on the table. Skye, bring in the vegetables and we can start eating.”

 Skye turned around and began to pick up the plates without complaint. “She is so prepared,” she said, passing the dinner plates to Ward because she definitely couldn’t carry those too.

 “Of course she is,” Coulson said, giving the four of them a smirk before leading the way into the lounge.

 Jemma tugged on the sleeve of Fitz’s jumper and gave him a small smile. The corners of his mouth tugged up and that was enough for her to give him a toothy grin before holding his arm and pulling him towards what was undoubtedly going to be a lovely meal. Melinda May was The Cavalry, a title she didn’t earn by cooking. But Jemma didn’t have a doubt in her mind that she knew how to make one mean roast chicken.

 They could hear the sounds of the others making their way to their bunks as Jemma sat down and began to get comfy on Fitz’s bed. The Doctor Who Christmas special was already loading on Fitz’s laptop. It was tradition for them to watch it before they went to bed (or live if they were back in the UK), being on the bus wouldn’t change that. Fitz watched her out of the corner of his eye as he began to connect his laptop to the TV. He’d been doing that a lot lately and was actually quite surprised that she hadn’t noticed. It was like he was constantly checking that she was actually there, with him. The image of her hair blowing wildly with the wind and then her body falling out of that plane hadn’t left him. Fitz didn’t think it ever would. She was his best friend. His other half. His home. The best person he’d ever met. He couldn’t lose her.

 “This turned out better than I possibly thought, Fitz,” Jemma said, pulling the blanket from the end of Fitz’s bed onto her lap. “This was a really nice Christmas. Maybe one of the best we’ve had yet.”

 “Yeah, it was lovely,” Fitz agreed as he nudged Jemma to move over so he could have some space on the bed. “I’ll be the first to admit, this flying circus has turned out to feel more like home than I could have ever imagined.”

 “To be honest, Fitz, I think as long as we’re with each other we’ll be home.” He looked down at her, all nestled up in his blanket, her head lolling slightly towards his shoulder. “It’s almost been ten years since we met. I can’t imagine not being in contact with you for any more than half a day. When you and Ward went on that mission, it was just so odd not having you there to bounce off of.” She was opening up a lot. They never really said these kinds of things out loud. It was usually just implied. Or, at least, Fitz thought they were. ‘ _I’m pretty sure Skye kept adding more wine to our glasses during dinner when we weren’t looking,’_ Fitz thought, trying to provide a reason for her sudden echoing of his earlier thoughts. But maybe she was just feeling sentimental tonight. Christmas did bring that out in her.

 “I agree. You’re my best friend, Jemma.” The words felt heavy on his lips. It’s not that they were wrong, but they didn’t really encompass the entirety of what he felt towards the biochemist sitting next to him. Jemma was so much _more_. But he just couldn’t find the words to explain that.

 “You’re mine too, Fitz. You know that,” she replied, looking up at him and smiling. His eyes had definitely gotten bluer. Jemma couldn’t remember his eyes being that blue before. She moved some of the blanket onto Fitz’s lap, giving him the chance to get snuggled before they watched the Christmas special. Her head found its way onto his shoulder and she wrapped her arms around one of his. “You would tell me if anything was wrong with you, right?” Jemma asked, keeping her voice light.

 “Yeah, of course…why?” The note of worry in Fitz’s voice was hard to miss. He didn’t know what Jemma was getting at, but it’s hard not to worry when you’re best friend asks you something like that.

 “Well…after all the incidents involving Christmas and fire over the years, I’m starting to think that you’re becoming a seasonal arsonist.”

 “Shut up and watch Doctor Who, Jemma.”

  _iv. But as long as you love me so_

 Jemma cheered with the rest of them as Fitz closed up the old record player that he had miraculously fixed. The soft tones of Michael Bublé began to flow from the playground’s speaker system. She couldn’t stop the ball of pride that emerged as she watched Fitz get a clap on the back from Trip. He’d made so much progress and Jemma just couldn’t help but admire him. She’d always admired Fitz. He was clever and interesting and far more brilliant than even he thought, but now her admiration was on a whole new level. They’d been through so much, but everything was okay now (well, as okay as it could be) and that was what she needed to focus on. She had her team safe at the playground and, of course, she also had Fitz. She’d always have Fitz. Jemma finished her drink and then made her way over to him. He’d had enough time with the boys today. She needed some Fitz time, too.

 Fitz didn’t know if she had gotten even more caught up with the Christmas spirit this year, or if it was just the copious amounts of sherry Skye had so lovingly put into their drinks, but as Jemma continued to lean heavily against him and then sneak an arm around his waist, he didn’t really care. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and her hair fell into her face as she let out a content sigh to accompany the expression of pure happiness on her face. Fitz loved her always, but he loved her most like this.

 Everyone had been through a lot, but they’d all come out the other end. Scratched, bloody and bruised, but they’d made it. Even so, moments like this were hard to come by. Usually everyone had some sort of worry in the back of their minds. For some it was the constant threat of Hydra, for others it was the fact that Ward was still out there and they had no idea who’s side he was on these days. This time last year he had been celebrating with them. He had been family. But today was a day when everyone seemed to forget about all that. The only problems were what Michael Bublé song they would play or how much alcohol the Playground had left. Seeing the team acting so relaxed and carefree was lovely, but seeing Jemma do the same was enigmatic. Fitz couldn’t look anywhere else.

 “We’ve had dinner and you haven’t set fire to anything yet, Fitz. I think that’s a record,” she said softly as she brought her other arm round his waist. A small chuckle escaped his lips and he looked down at her hugging him.

 “The night is still young and we haven’t had pudding yet. There’s plenty of time for fires. Plus, only one of my hands works well, so I think the odds of me starting a fire is actually higher than it’s ever been.” Jemma smiled and shook her head at him before looking up to meet his gaze. “You’re also making it sound like I set stuff on fire every year – which is a complete lie.”

 “I suppose you don’t set fire to something _every_ year…just most years.” They stood there, smiling at each other, getting caught up in their own little world. It was still hard for Fitz to believe sometimes. Every now and then it felt like something he had dreamed up. After all, there had been a time when he’d thought Jemma had given up on him. He’d thought he’d never get to see her again, other than in his head. But now he was standing there, staring down at his best friend, the best person he’d ever met, and she was as real as she could be.

 Cheers erupted throughout the Playground as Mack emerged from the kitchen carrying the Christmas pudding. He placed it on the table in front of Coulson and everyone began to gather round. Fitz picked up the gas lighter from the bench he was leaning on and walked over with Simmons, ready to hand it over to Coulson and then watch the magnificence that was the lighting of the pudding. But it never got to that.

 Fitz made his way around chair just as Lance decided to come round their way. Their collision jolted Fitz forward, towards the table and as he was knocked, Fitz’s hand began to clench. He pressed the trigger for the lighter as he gripped onto the table, causing the tablecloth to catch alight. Jemma stood beside him as they watched the fire spread, both feeling a clear mixture of amusement and ‘not again’. Luckily, Trip and Mack were on form and had the Playgrounds fire extinguishers at the table in under a minute. Unfortunately, the foam didn’t limit it’s spray to just the fire. Some managed to find its way on to the Christmas pudding too.

 Coulson’s laugh at the sight of the foam covered pudding echoed throughout the Playground. Trip, Mack and Skye soon followed suit and even May cracked a smile. Fitz didn’t know whether to laugh or to be really embarrassed. He looked down at Jemma and wasn’t entirely surprised to find her looking up at him. The sparkle in her eyes made him positive that he was in for a whole lot of teasing when they made back to his room to watch Doctor Who that evening.

 “That’s two years in a row,” she whispered whilst smiling coyly and wrapping her arm around his as Coulson began to talk. Fitz rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. The teasing had begun early.

 “I feel like we should have seen this coming,” he said, looking pointedly at Fitz, not even trying to hide his smirk. Fitz let out a small laugh and scratched the back of his head.

 “Sorry, sir.”

 “It’s alright. Keeps us on our toes and provides us with entertainment.” With that Coulson began to shuffle off towards the kitchen, followed by May and Sam. Jemma had a feeling that Christmas pudding wasn’t the only dessert in the Playground. Coulson and May would never be that underprepared.

 “Sorry for bumping into you, mate,” Lance said, sidestepping closer to Fitz and Jemma. “That fire was partially my fault too.”

 “Oh, there you go Fitz. Lance is taking the fall for this one. We’ll take this one off your record,” Jemma commented, reaching round to pat Fitz’s chest.

 “Wait, what record?” Lance asked, frowning slightly.

 “Fitz sets fire to something around Christmas every year-”

 “ _Almost_ every year. I was actually saying earlier that we hadn’t had pudding yet, so there was still time for something to go up in flames. It’s-”

 “Quite a coincidence really. I feel like your Christmas fires are starting to become tradition, Fitz. I can’t quite imagine one without it.” Lance looked back and forth between the two of them, shaking his head for a couple of seconds before beginning to walk away.

 “That’s one messed up tradition, mate,” they heard him mumble before he left their earshot.

 It had been ten minutes since the tablecloth of fire and they were sat on a sofa in the corner. Fitz was chatting with Mack about what level they had reached on a videogame whilst his hand was tracing small circles on her knee. He always did little things like that and they always made her feel warm and at home. Jemma pressed a kiss to cheek before nestling her head against his shoulder. She could feel love radiating from him and only hoped that he could feel the same from her, because she did. She did love him. It had taken her a while to figure out what she was feeling. The road had been rough, but he had been patient until she finally understood what was going on in her own head. They were best friends and most certainly always would be, but now they had another layer to _FitzSimmons_. They were _more_ and more made Jemma’s skin tingle. It made Fitz’s eyes light up. It made them incandescent.

 “It’s all good, you guys. Sam managed to find some cheesecake in one of the fridges. So don’t worry, Fitz. We’ve still got dessert,” Trip said, handing Fitz a bowl as Skye handed one to Jemma.

 “Thanks.” Fitz couldn’t help but look down at his bowl with a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t be surprised if May bought this in preparation. Especially after what happened last year.”

“Why? What happened last year?” Mack asked, leaning forward to take the bowl that Trip was offering him.

“Fitz set the turkey on fire,” Jemma replied casually, putting a spoonful of cheesecake in her mouth. Mack raised his eyebrows and looked at Trip, who looked equally shocked, before looking at Fitz.

“It wasn’t properly on fire,” Fitz retorted, but before he could properly justify himself, Skye jumped in. 

“But there were flames on the legs, so it definitely counts. He does this a lot. Apparently there was in incident involving a box of matches and some rogue crackers a couple of Christmases ago. He’s a regular Seamus Finnigan.”

“Wow, Turbo. I didn’t take you for an arsonist,” Mack replied, leaning back into the sofa.

“I feel like we should probably keep Fitz away from the Christmas food until it’s actually time to eat it, next year,” Trip suggested as he placed his empty bowl onto the table and then shuffled a little closer to Skye. 

“Awww, but where would the fun in that, be?” Skye asked, looking up at Trip with a little glint in her eye. The smile that Trip gave her then could’ve lit up a thousand stadiums across the world and Jemma’s mind reeled at the thought that maybe they were on the verge of more, too. But her mind stopped reeling when she saw Skye and Trip make eye contact with someone standing behind her and mischievous smiles began to spread across both their faces. That wasn’t good. That was never good.

Fitz looked above their heads and saw the smiling face of Lance, and a bunch of mistletoe. He tensed up immediately and gave Jemma a nervous look. It wasn’t like he hadn’t kissed her before. He had. Many times, in fact. But none of those kisses were in front of their team. PDA wasn’t really their thing (although Skye and Trip would argue that their science banter counted). He could see everyone looking at the two of them, expectant smirks on their faces. Even a couple of their sci-tech agents were hanging around, hoping to get a glimpse of their bosses kissing.

Before Fitz arrived at any idea on how to deal with this, Jemma had placed her hand on his cheek and turned his head so that he was facing her. Her lips fell softly onto his and he could feel her smiling through it. Fitz would never stop Jemma Simmons from kissing him, even in front of a room full of people. So, naturally, he followed her lead and pressed his lips firmly against hers before placing his hand on her thigh and mirroring her smile. Jemma faintly registered the sound of people cheering, but she otherwise preoccupied to really be paying attention. 

“Okay, alright. Point made,” Skye said loudly. It sounded like she was beginning to turn away, but neither of them pulled away far enough from each other to actually see. “I thought seeing these two kiss in public would be funny, but now I think it’s bordering on weird. As much as I love them, I don’t want to be seeing that.”

“You and me both,” Trip said, their voices getting lost in the sound of footsteps and aimless chattering.

They had been left alone, but neither of them moved. They quite happily stayed there, wrapped up in each other. Now that it was jus the two of them, there was nothing holding him back.

Fitz leaned in and brought her into another kiss. This was deeper than before and held so much more emotion. Jemma couldn’t help but be glad everyone had gone because of they had been around while Fitz was kissing her like this, she knew she’d be blushing furiously. Her heart was beating double time and she couldn’t stop herself burying her hands deeper into his hair. That was the kind of kiss Fitz was giving her. The kind that you never wanted to end. The kind that even when you’re old and memories are hard to drag up, the thought of this one kiss would always linger. 

Pulling away, slightly breathless and definitely flushed, the smile on Fitz’s face was honestly the best thing Jemma had seen. Even though his words sometimes failed him, he could always show her exactly how he was feeling. That was something he planned on doing for as long as she’d let him, and Jemma wouldn’t ever stop letting him. 

She gently tugged on Fitz, so that his forehead came down to rest on hers and their noses were touching. Jemma never wanted this Christmas to end. They had spent many Christmases together over the years and they all had been brilliant in their own special way. But this one. This one was the best of them all. Her hands in his curls. Her eyes locked on his. The whole thing screamed _more_ and more was absolutely perfect.

“Merry Christmas, Fitzy.”

“Merry Christmas, Jemma.”

_Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!_


End file.
